


Aconitum

by oursinsdefineus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek being an ass, Hurt!Stiles, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, angsty!stiles, past suicide/self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oursinsdefineus/pseuds/oursinsdefineus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The people who smile the most are the saddest.</p><p>--</p><p>Derek leaving is final nail on the coffin.</p><p>(set after 3a)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted angsty!Stiles so bad. Derek leaving post-3a was just too perfect to ignore. Feel free to correct me on mistakes, factual or otherwise (don't have an editor, teehee).

“He’s not coming back, Stiles. Why do you even bother?”

White knuckles gripped the steering wheel tight, nails digging into the worn leather. Stiles bites his lips and takes a deep breath. He pulls the Jeep into gear and drives away from the sign that welcomes people into Beacon Hills.

\---

“You should eat more, son.” John says, pushing the bowl of mashed potatoes – made with unsalted butter of course; Stiles still harped on his father even as werewolves, witches, demons, and other supernatural creatures plagued their lives. “You look a little worse for wear.”

Stiles stabbed at his peas limply and offered his dad a small smile. “Nah. I’m full. I pigged out at lunch today.”

“Alright,” John wasn’t convinced. “How’s school?”

“Sucks,” Stiles answered automatically, shoving a spoon of vegetables into his mouth. “The usual.” He chewed slowly and looked like he was going to throw up his dinner.

“I haven’t seen Scott around lately.” John knew something was off with Stiles ever since Derek took Cora and drove off in that car of his. He seemed so sad. It was just like the time when Claudia died. Stiles had stopped eating, had nightmares, and then the panic attacks started –

“The dude’s going through a nasty break-up with Allison.” Stiles sighed. “He was barely around when they started dating anyway so, I mean, nothing new.” Stiles finished. His hands trembled a little as he pushed his barely eaten food away. “I’m going to do some homework.”

John nodded. “Don’t study too hard.” Stiles cracked another fake smile and practically ran up the stairs. John shook his head and continued eating dinner. He didn’t like this version of Stiles. It was dangerous. The last time nearly – John pushed his plate away. He wasn’t thinking about that.

“Great. Now I’m not hungry either.”

\---

Stiles dropped down on his bed and curled into a ball. His phone gave a short beep and he grabbed it on reflex, checking the sender. It was from Lydia.

‘Pack meeting tomorrow. You’ll be there.’

Stiles felt the urge to throw his phone at the wall. Some pack they were. The last time there was a pack meeting, Scott just sat down looking like a lost puppy as per usual, with Lydia taking over the meeting as they talked about what to do since Derek obviously wasn’t coming back.

Stiles typed out a quick ‘okay’ and dropped his phone down on the bed. He curled tighter around himself, feeling the chill of fall rattling his bones. He was always so cold now. I mean, he’s never managed to achieve the furnace temperature like his werewolf friends but his magic always seemed to warm him up when he needed it. Now there was nothing. Like his spark – or whatever is was – just decided to stop working.

_He’s not coming back, Stiles. Get over it. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s never cared._

The cold seemed to get worse. Stiles burrowed underneath his blankets, not bothering to remove his pants and hoodie. He felt hollow. Stiles reached for his nightstand’s drawer and pulled it open.

It mostly contained porn magazines and lube, but a white bottle of pills had been pushed to the back. Stiles reached for it, hands shaking. 

_I promised I wouldn’t. Not again._

Stiles started at the pills inside. He thought of his dad. His mom. Scott. _Derek._

He felt the darkness around his heart suffocating him. He closed his eyes, fingers gripped the bottle tightly.

_Well, everybody breaks promises anyway._


	2. Let me in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I didn't know was going to continue this after more than a year of having the next chapter half written up. Well. Uhm. Here ya go.

_Why is it so quiet?_

 

Stiles opened his eyes wearily, taking note of the sterile white walls of the room he was in and the steady beeping by his head. His throat felt dry and itchy.

 

"Stiles?" his father's worried face came into view.

 

Stiles licked his dry lips and croaked "Water,"

 

John quickly walked over to the small bedside table and helped Stiles sip water from a bendy straw in a paper cup. "How are you feeling?"

 

Stiles dropped back down on the bed, exhaustion entering his features.  _Well, guess my second suicide attempt was a bust_. "Oh you know, just peachy."

 

“Stiles – I know it’s been hard since –“

 

Stiles cut him off. “No, dad. You don’t. I’m not being selfish and forgetting that you lost mom too. But what happened with – with – the Nemeton can’t even compare.” He shuffled down the bed and turned to his side. “It’s like there’s this – darkness that’s swallowing up my life. I just want it all to stop.” _Want. Present tense._

 

John bit his lip and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “I may not know what it is you’re dealing with right now, but I want you to remember that I’m your father and there are people who love you and want to help you.”

 

Stiles closed his eyes; his chest feeling cold and empty. “None of you can help me.”

 

John sighed and walked out the door. “I’m going to do the afternoon patrol and be right back. Tell Melissa to give me a call if you need anything.”

 

When his dad came back the evening, Stiles was still asleep, with his breathing even in the comfort of a familiar presence… but the nightmares came anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

When Stiles was well enough to go home, he immediately crashed down onto his bed and fell asleep. His dad was silent throughout the entire car ride and didn’t say anything except for “Get some rest” once they got home. Stiles vaguely heard the phone ring and his dad saying, “He’s sleeping, Scott. You can visit tomorrow and try to talk to him.”

 

Stiles snorted and turned to his side, staring at a random video game poster on his wall. He felt his eyes droop before he fell into a pit of unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Stiles opened his eyes, it was in a very familiar place. There were headstones everywhere, each plot with a fresh or dried bouquet of flowers, but Stiles was focused on the weathered one in front of him.

 

_Claudia Stilinski._

“Mom.”

 

Stiles reached out and felt the tips of his fingers touch icy-cool marble. How long has it been since he last visited her? The grip around his heart grew tighter and his eyes filled with tears.

 

“I’m so sorry, mom.”

 

_It’s okay, baby. I understand._

Stiles’ head snapped up and he found himself staring into the warm amber-brown eyes of his dead mother.

 

“Mom? You can’t possibly be – You’re ---“

 

_I’m here, Stiles. I always have been._

“I missed you so much,” Stiles choked out.

 

Claudia reached out a hand and touched Stiles cheek. _I missed you too, baby. You and John._

Stiles reached out and gripped Claudia’s hand tightly. “Can you stay?”

 

_Yes. Yes, I can. But only on one condition._

Stiles didn’t notice an almost predatory glint in his mom’s eyes. He just gripped her hand tighter against his face. “What is it? I’ll do anything.”

 

Claudia smiled.

_Let me in._

**Author's Note:**

> Um. Yeah.


End file.
